Free at Last
by SprakleSparkle
Summary: "Nothing. Above him, below him, next to him, surrounding him. Nothing." Just how did Loki get out of the Black Fortress the first time? Runemarks/Runelight AUish, seeing as it's my take on it and contains some general things I know about Norse mythology.


Nothing.

Above him, below him, next to him, surrounding him. Nothing.

He had been left here for all eternity, slowly descending into madness. For all the once great Trickster god Loki knew, he had been here a minute, a year, a century since Ragnarok, the end of the Nine Worlds. He had been tossed into the Black Fortress, Netherworld, to endure this slow torture. Or fast torture, he really wasn't sure when time and space had no meaning. there was always a chance of escape.

So he sat, stood, lay; whatever it was he did in this state of nothing, waiting for his chance. Waiting for his chance to break back into Midgard; the human world. Heck, he'd even settle for World Below with the fey folk, the goblins, if it meant escaping. Even if those other gobshite gods were still kicking up there, waiting for him, it would be better than this. Whatever revenge or retribution they doled out on him at least he would _feel _something.

Then, finally, his chance came. Granted it was in the form of a demon from Chaos, and that was never good news, but it was a chance nonetheless. The offer was made; a favour for a favour. Also granted he would have to swim through the river Dream which was mental suicide, driving a person to madness or death. But the fire in his cunning green gemstone eyes was finally, _finally, _relit. He knew a chance when he saw one, and sitting here in the absolute isolation of the Black Fortress he knew he wouldn't get another.

So he made the deal, and off he went.

It showed him to a back exit where he sat for a moment in a small crevice over-looking Dream and it's mercury like appearance that flowed to the looming black gates he could see in the far distance. He could almost smell the fresh air, taste sweet freedom.

Which he mused, was absolutely ridiculous seeing as his chances of making it out of this place were slimmer than the finest of threads. And as crazy as it sounded, he was exhilarated. There was nothing like the chance of freedom with a dash of chaos to get the adrenaline pumping and the heart racing.

Loki had always enjoyed a good challenge.

Suddenly, there were great tremors that almost knocked him off his feet and a deep rumbling that reverberated through the ground that made him glad that in this state he was in, he didn't have actual corporeal eardrums. Good ole' Surt the Destroyer had obviously realised he was missing.

What any normal being would do would be cowering under a rock, probably hysterically whispering some nonsense about asking to be saved while rocking back and forth. Not Loki; a grin tugged at his scarred lips and he had a slightly crazed glint in his eyes, which were now filled with the mischief anyone who knew him had come to expect and be wary of when dealing with the Trickster.

The demon, appearing in the form of a shadowy black, vaguely human, cloud with gleaming ruby red eyes and a hissing voice spoke to him then.

"Time to go Trickster; but remember, if you make it out of Dream alive you owe us whenever we decide to call on you."

With a slight shove of the demons surprisingly corporeal hand, Loki went tumbling down into Dream headfirst. He hit the liquid hard, making a loud splash, and then he was struggling to swim. Even with the flow of Dream pulling him towards his destination, he struggled; sinking further and further until he wasn't sure which way was up anymore.

Then there were objects, people, _things _taking shape before his very eyes. Whatever they were, he knew he didn't want to see, that seeing them would possibly be death or madness, but he couldn't help it. With a foggy feeling consuming his mind, still struggling to swim against whatever forces were dragging him under, he sank further and further…

_The night was pleasantly cool and silent except for the sound of crickets, the small breeze ruffling Loki's tied back scarlet hair. He moved silently to the sleeping quarters, to Sifs' room. He knew what he was about to do wasn't nice; in fact, some might say it was malicious. But he thought it would be hilarious. No one seemed to understand his unique sense of humour, which disappointed him to no end. Some thought he was cruel and others just thought he was crazy._

_He walked on after opening the heavy wooden, well-oiled and thankfully silent door, clutching the scissors tighter in his hand. Her sleeping form was briefly illuminated from the sliver of moonlight that was cast through the room; golden blonde hair flowing over the pillow, pale complexion peaceful in sleep. _She won't be so peaceful when she wakes up, _he thought to himself._

_When he was close, he lifted the scissors and the quiet _snip, snip, snip _sounded as he cut off the golden tresses that Sif was so proud of…_

He broke the surface, gasping –

"_It's not much farther, Idun." He said, leading the way._

_Idun, in all her innocence, didn't even think for a moment that Loki's odd behaviour was due to the fact he was leading her into a trap to be taken by the giant, Thiazi. She followed along, leaving a trail of freshly bloomed flowers wherever she stepped and humming a happy tune to herself, carrying the basket that held the golden apples which kept the gods from becoming old and weak._

_Loki's deal with Thiazi, Idun for his freedom, didn't even remotely bother him. He was too busy thinking about how he was going to escape the wrath of all the other gods when they found out what he had done. _

_Finally, Thiazi came in the form of an eagle and snatched Idun up, flying away from him until they were out of the canopy and out of sight. Sighing, he turned back and started heading out of the dark forest with its dense foliage and rich earthy smell, wondering how he was going to get himself out of this mess…_

Breaking out of the memory, he could see the gate, so close, he stretched out his arm reaching, _reaching _–

_A twisted, predatory grin graced his face; his gemstone green eyes were filled with a cruel and slightly deranged glint, making his angular face seem even harsher than normal. He was slightly stooped, standing in the cool, dark alcove while observing as the other gods threw objects good naturedly at Baldur the fair, the indestructible. _

Well, _he mused, _indestructible but for one thing.

_His grin stretched even more, and he tightened his grip on the mistletoe dart that felt pleasantly weighty in his left hand. He scanned the small crowd that had now formed, looking, searching. _

Ah, _Loki thought, _there he is.

_He had spotted Hodur, Baldur's blind brother. The stocky, muscular man stood slightly away from the crowd. Casually strolling over to him, no one noticing as they were too intent on Baldur, Loki stood next to Hodur._

"_Hodur, why don't you join the others?" He asked cheerily, using the right amounts of curiosity and charm._

"_You know why, Loki. In my blindness I may hit the other gods by accident." Hodur's replied._

"_What a shame. Hmm… I know!" He exclaimed, making Hodur turn his sightless eyes to him._

"_What if I helped guide you? Here, hold this…" Loki said, taking Hodur's hand and guiding him in the right way to hold the dart._

"_We'll throw on three. One," Loki started, helping Hodur take aim._

"_Two," He helped pull Hodur's arm back._

"_Three." The dart was thrown, and Baldur fell…_

So close, his fingers brushed the gate –

_Loki stopped and stood, gazing at the destruction that lay before him. The destruction he had caused by bringing about Baldur's death. Bodies lay strewn about the makeshift battlefield, the acrid stench of smoke from the flames he could see in the distance burned his nostrils, the dust in the air stinging his eyes and filling his mouth with an unpleasant, slightly sickening taste. _

_In the distance he could see Odin fighting with Fenrir, the great wolf, and knew it would only be a matter of time before he fell like Mirmir the Oracle had foretold. Thor had been hit by Jormungand's poison but was still battling with his hammer, the great Mjollnir, striking the giant snake with a resounding THWACK every time it hit. _

_And then Loki saw Heimdall and knew this would be the end of him. Lifting up his own sword to meet the oncoming attack from the god that possibly hated him the most out of them all, he stood tall despite his already battered, broken and bruised state holding steady for the oncoming charge, Heimdall's deafening battle cry making his ears ring…_

With a cry of triumph, Loki tore himself from the memory and slipped through the gate being carried by the flow of Dream farther and farther until he reached a cavern where he promptly grabbed a rocky ledge and hauled himself out of the complete nightmare that was Dream.

Lying back on the hard ground and feeling sunlight, _sunlight! _hit his face for the first time in what felt like forever and Loki began to laugh hysterically, tears leaked from his eyes and slid down to well near his ears and his lips pulled back into a smile so broad his cheeks ached.

Some amount of time later, when he had finally calmed himself down enough and wiped his palms across his eyes, he stood on shaky legs, looking around himself. He was in a spacious cavern that had a hole in the roof, which allowed the fiery orange glow of afternoon sunlight to filter in. There was one passageway leading the person out of the room and down a steep incline into darkness. He didn't fancy the thought of walking through the darkness into what was no doubt a new world.

So he chose option two.

Discovering he had enough energy, he did something he hadn't done since before Ragnarok; he shape-shifted into a hawk and took flight, bursting through the hole in the roof of the cavern letting out a loud, screeching, bird-cry of freedom.

He flew, feeling the wind ruffle his feathers and observing the new world presented before him. Off to the west, he could see what looked like millions of sparkling diamonds that reflected the orange glow of a setting sun. _The ocean, _he thought longingly. To the north was what appeared to be a small village of some sort, he saw smoke puffing out of a chimney and saw what appeared to be moving dots, but what he knew to be humans running about their daily business. There was a lake not far from the village surrounded by tall, thin trees rich with green leaves, some of them even flowering. When he turned to look at the east and south, he saw stretches of forest with the occasional clearing. He turned back to the west his destination in mind, and he flew faster shooting like an arrow through the air.

Even with the thought nagging at the back of his mind about the deal with the demon, he felt free. Free from Netherworld, free from his crimes, free from his memories.

Free at last.


End file.
